


Lessons in Falling

by Goonlalagoon



Category: Leagues and Legends - E. Jade Lomax
Genre: And depictions of violence but not in detail, Because it's ridiculous but hey I was doing NaNoWriMo and stressing about a martial arts grading, Fluff, Grade system has been taken liberties with because I wanted to make the badge colours tie in, M/M, Martial Arts AU, No specific martial art, Some mentions of racism and stereotyping, did anyone ask for this? no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 11:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goonlalagoon/pseuds/Goonlalagoon
Summary: Leagues and Legends AU: Leaf drags Jack along to a tiny martial arts club known as 'the Academy' in an attempt not to get beaten up so much, meets Red, and promptly falls head over heels - and not just because it's Red's job to teach him to take a fall.





	Lessons in Falling

_“Falling’s the bravest thing I’ve ever heard of” - Liam Jones_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**White (grey)**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“The first thing to learn in any combat,” Red says calmly at the first session, “is how to take a fall.” He smiles at them, a little sharp. “So, are you ready to learn to fall?” Leaf nods in puzzled agreement, and doesn’t think _I already have_. In the future he will - corny jokes and self-deprecating rolled eyes, remembering the way his heart had maybe skipped a little bit of a beat when the other boy had handed him a flier with a passing glance at his fading black eye.

But for now, he nods in puzzled agreement and tries to focus on what the red-belt is saying. He hadn’t managed to catch the boy’s name when the instructor rattled off a list of names and assigned someone to taking care of Leaf and Jack for their first session, so just mentally labelled the boy as Red, because of his belt colour.

Jack had insisted on coming along to at least the first session, an unspoken agreement that this could just be some elaborate trap, and Leaf is glad for the company. They’d been in and out of fights throughout the previous term, dealing with bullies and the kind of people who thought ‘I was drunk’ meant they could throw a punch at anyone who annoyed them, rather than ‘hey, maybe I should stop after three pints and not break someone’s nose for breathing too loud’. They’d also gotten into a few over hissed slurs and supposedly funny stereotypes, sharing resigned glances at Halloween and putting up with far too many ‘Juan’ jokes. It wasn’t entirely unthinkable that someone was trying to lure Leaf into a situation where he’d be without Jack to lend a hand, even if it seemed like an over the top ploy. The fact that they’d only managed to find any information about this particular martial art after hours of Googling hadn’t boded well, but they but they both had reasonable confidence in Jack’s ability to bodily throw someone across a room by this point.

Red falls forwards as though pushed by a ghost, tucking into a roll that makes him a blur of brown skin and red and white cloth, winding up on his feet with barely a whisper. Leaf feels his eyebrows shoot up, impressed. Red looks at them calmly.  
“See? A good fall saves you from getting injured and puts you back on your feet.”

Jack smiles, small and sharp, and falls - much more dramatically, but with the same careless ease he brings to everything except the one riding lesson he’d tried at Leaf’s insistence. Leaf swallows hard, and trades glances with the scrawny kid with a belt that had at one point been white who had trailed across the room after Red. The kid pulls a face.  
“I hate it when they’re a natural.” Leaf privately agrees. “I’m Grey. Better get this over with.” The boy drops into a much more ungainly roll, stumbling as he stands up and shrugging absently as though he really doesn’t care. He tugs his belt back around into place with a huff, and Leaf wonders what happened to the belt to get it quite that far from white.

Leaf crouches, feeling like a fool, and tries to roll with the same fluidity as Jack and Red. His head thumps against the ground, then his spine hits every vertebrae on the way past until he reaches the point when he thinks he should be magically on his feet, and instead lies staring up at the fluorescent light. Jack’s face appears in his field of vision, and he grins tiredly, already feeling that this is going to be a regular theme.  
“Guess I need to practice falling, huh?” Red nudges Jack out of the way with a hint of a scowl.  
“You and Grey run through a few more rolls. I’ll take Leaf through step by step - you were supposed to wait for me to take you through it.” Jack looks a little sheepish, while Leaf tries not to feel too foolish at having gotten carried away rather than waiting to be taught. As the other two obediently wander off, Jack chattering away happily, Red inspects Leaf for any sign of injury. “You okay? There’s a trick to it, like everything. C’mon, I’ll show you.” He pulls Leaf to his feet, and if his hand feels a little warmer in Leaf’s than he would have expected - well, they have been exercising, it’s only to be expected.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Green**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Leaf knows he’s got it wrong as soon as his balance tips past the point of no return. He is falling, just as he’s supposed to, but he realises too late that he’s trying to put the wrong shoulder forwards. He grits his teeth, and feels the impact roll flat along his back rather than shoulder to hip, noisy and ungainly. At least his head doesn’t thump against the ground, but that isn’t much consolation. He stumbles to his feet, hoping his blush isn’t noticeable but knowing it will be, and tries to act like he isn’t fazed. He can’t bring himself to glance over to where Red is watching the grading, and the only person he can see is Laney, one of the purple belts who’s partnering someone from a different dojo for their grading, and Laney has an absolutely unreadable poker face.

He tries telling himself it didn’t matter, but it _does_. Falling is the most important thing to get right. If you can fall without hurting yourself, you can get back to your feet and try again. He knows a grading isn’t the end of the world, that this is just a hobby, but it feels important. He wants to be good at this, and he wants all of Red’s efforts to teach him to mean something. Jack bumps his shoulder gently as they move to put the mats away, knowing him well enough to guess what he’s thinking.  
“You did fine.” Leaf shoots him a doubtful look, resigned to being told he’s failed. “Seriously, Leaf, for a white belt the roll was fine, and everything else was good.” Leaf grimaces.  
“You’re a white belt too, and your roll was way out of my league.” Jack grins and shrugs, slinging an arm around his shoulders.  
“I fell over a lot when I was younger, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

The examiner agrees with Jack, it seems, because the next session Leaf is told he’d passed. Red hands him a slightly faded green belt with a grin.  
“Here. New ones are ridiculously pricey, and they get dye all over your dogi unless you’re careful. May as well recycle mine, yeah?” Leaf beams, running his fingers over it gently, and ties it in a precise knot. Jack has produced a belt from his bag, declaring a friend had given it to him when they heard he was grading, ‘…thanks anyway Rupe’. It’s even more faded than Red’s, but Jack doesn’t seem to care that it’s tatty at one end.

The post-training trip to the local fish and chip shop feels like more of a celebration than the friendly post-grading drink had. Tucked into a booth between Jack and Red, Leaf thinks perhaps he just feels like there was something to celebrate, rather than just the fact that he’d made it through the grading in one piece, bar a few bruises. He also admits to himself, quietly, that perhaps it’s also because Red doesn’t have to run off home to finish an essay this time, then shies away from the thought.

While Leaf goes to fetch more chips from the counter, someone in the group decides to start up the karaoke machine in the corner. Jack and Red are deep in what is probably a fascinating conversation about the history of martial arts in different countries, but someone shoves the microphone in Leaf’s hands and puts his favourite song on, so he shoves the basket of chips on the table and joins in. Somewhere in the middle of the fourth song, he glances round to find that Jack and Red’s conversation has come to a lull. Jack is investigating the different sauces available, while Red watches in fascinated horror at what he’s prepared to try eating chips with. Leaf laughs and waves a spare microphone at Red. He knows the other boy will refuse, as he has every time anyone has asked him to join the singing, so turns back to the screen to pick up his cue.

He almost drops the microphone when an unfamiliar singing voice joins in, glancing to his side to find Red, looking slightly self-conscious. Leaf grins, and Red shrugs. He has a decent singing voice, low and warm, and Leaf wonders why he always refuses to join in. Three songs later, they’re both starting to sound raspy, so Leaf grabs Red’s wrist and drags him over to the counter to get a drink.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Blue**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
After a few months, Leaf has started to simply assume he will be working with Red. When they pair up for stretching, the other boy is always to his right in the lineup and already turning to him; when senior grades are assigned to coach the lower belts, Red is somehow in charge of whichever group Leaf is in more often than not. Jack is rarely working with him, nowadays. It was clear from the start that Jack knew what he was doing with the basics and the fundamentals, though no one is quite certain how or why. Jack tends to work with Rupert and Laney, learning techniques a belt or two above the green belts’ syllabus and giving blithe answers that don’t really explain anything but sound like they do when asked where he learnt it all.

Some days, Leaf is jealous, just a little. This does not come easily to him, no matter how much he wishes it would. His body doesn’t seem to understand what he’s asking of it, and he knows even his best techniques are formulaic, blocky, and horribly unreliable. On other days, Leaf doesn’t mind in the slightest, because it tends to be just him and Red, and all of Red’s careful attention is on him. Leaf long ago gave up on telling himself the excessive warmth of Red’s hands and the flush in his own cheeks was simply the result of exercise. He feels his heart skip a beat when he gets one of Red’s rare smiles, and hopes it isn’t obvious that he feels like a lovesick puppy.

It was not an easy realisation. Red is calm, collected, and a finalist; Leaf thinks he’s not about to be interested in getting into a relationship with an excitable first year, if he’s interested in a relationship with another boy at all. Leaf feels a little adrift, a little scared, and a little guilty. It’s a physical sport, and he catches himself craving brief contact and stolen moments of attention, and worries about whether acknowledging he likes the way Red’s hand feels when it’s wrapped around his for balance when they do warm up kicks is somehow unfair to the other boy. He hates that he feels jealous when the red belts train together, or when Red looks after Grey and the few new beginners, white belts already less than pristine and turning grubby grey, and someone else gets the approving nod Leaf judges his progress by.

But in the end, he can’t help his own feelings. He just looks forward to training and wishes it was more than three times a week, and reminds himself that Red doesn’t owe him anything, not even his attention.

Still, he is glad when Red and Rupert casually invite him to join their study table in the library over the break, provided he’s quiet and contained. They’ll delight in his exuberance elsewhere, Red explains, but not when they’ve got an essay to finish in under two hours, thank you very much. Rupert is, as always, more polite about it, simply stressing that they take regular coffee breaks to stretch their legs and talk without disrupting the quiet of the library. Leaf jokingly avoids speaking at all the first time he joins them, but it backfires when they proceed to communicate only by note for the next three study sessions. Rupert smiles politely as though there’s nothing at all amiss about writing a note to ask Leaf to pass him a sheet of paper, but Red’s eyes gleam with humour and Leaf is certain that at least one bathroom break is so he can go crack up at the joke.

Eventually Rupert sighs heavily, and whispers “My pen is out of ink. Could you pass me an ink cartridge, please? I keep a stock of them in that cubby hole” and even though it isn’t that funny both Leaf and Red collapse into laughter, and the librarian throws them out. Rupert follows soon after, still sighing, with their bags and books. Leaf knows him well enough by now to know the quirk of his eyebrows means he’s laughing too. He’s just better at keeping a calm face. Red drags them both off to a coffee shop he knows that tends to be quiet and has enough plug sockets.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Purple**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the ground rushes towards him, Leaf knows he’s falling wrong again. He is weightless, flying, and the ground is coming towards him too fast, and he knows, he _knows_ before he hits the floor, that this is going to be bad. The impact is almost a relief, the moments before stretching into infinity, mere seconds lengthened by dread. He tries to roll, arms bending to take the impact, angling to roll from shoulder to hip as Red has tried and tried and _tried_ to teach him, but he doesn’t manage it. He thinks that he feels each vertebrae hit the hard-packed ground, a new point of pain marking his progress from falling to fallen across his back, and then he stares at the sky, winded.

He can’t breathe. It’s panic-inducing, all the air in his lungs gone and gasping, gasping like a fish out of water, but not being able to fill them again, and his back hurts, but his arm is worse, so much worse, and he can’t breathe. There’s no one to pick him up, either - no Jack to haul him up, no Rupert with friendly concern, no Laney with a hint of impatience and a barely perceptible appraisal, no Red to offer a hand and a quiet correction. There are no concerned faces to peer down, just empty blue sky.

It’s Laney who finds him, somehow. Idly, Leaf wonders how. Later he realises that this part of the path is her favourite walk back from lectures, but when she kneels next to him with a worried frown, phone already halfway to her ear, he’s too deep in shock to think. He thinks she actually looks shaken, but he puts it down to shock when he remembers - no one has ever seen Laney Jones shaken by anything, and he can’t imagine that someone who’s taken a bad fall would throw her.

An hour later, they’re told his wrist is broken from the fall, and he’s got a few new bruises that didn’t come from the dojo. Someone kicked him the ribs at some point, and he vaguely remembers it getting even harder to breathe while he was on the ground, staring at the sky. The impact itself he can’t quite recall. His head is aching, but the doctor orders him not to sleep. Laney pinches him sharply every time his eyes start to drop shut until a nurse declares he’s okay to doze off.

When he wakes up, for a confused moment he thinks he’s in the dojo after all. It seems as though everyone is there. Jack is folded into a chair, brick red hair on end where he’s run frantic fingers through it. Grey is reading a book, but glances over the top at Leaf and gives him a little nod of quiet acknowledgement, then looks back at the page without saying anything to give him time to come around before answering questions. Laney and Rupert are reading the doctor’s notes, while Heather and Gloria exchange furious whispers about what on earth happened.

Red isn’t there, and Leaf feels…betrayed, even though he has no reason to. He is not owed this boy’s attention, or his care.

Jack notices he is awake, and is gabbling out apologies before Leaf can even smile at his friend. Leaf isn’t quite certain what for, until he finally realises that Jack thinks he should have been there. Leaf coughs when he tries to laugh, but eventually manages a weak smile.  
“Hey, shut up, Farris. Like even you can do anything about my terrible rolls.” Something flickers at the back of Jack’s eyes that Leaf hasn’t seen before, a seriousness he doesn’t associate with his permanently smiling friend. Jack shrugs.  
“I’d’ve kept you from falling.” It sounds something like a promise, and something entirely else like a plea, so Leaf just grins and says he knows he would. As she’s leaving, Laney thumps Leaf’s leg, something a little sad in her expression.  
“My brother always said falling was the bravest thing you could do. Don’t let this scare you out of trying again, alright? Only cowards never fall.” There’s a twist to her tone on the last few words that makes Leaf think she’s quoting something, or someone.

She’s gone before he can say the thought hadn’t occurred to him, or to say he’d never realised she has a brother. He doesn’t quite let himself think he’s already fallen as hard as he ever could, with both feet firmly on the ground, but only because he’s still trying a little not to let himself realise quite how far he’s fallen for Red.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

**Red**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“They didn’t call me.” It’s the first thing Red says when Leaf opens the door, before he’s really registered who was knocking. Red is flustered, dark cheeks darker still with exertion, and he’s actually leaning against the door frame for support. “I had an exam and they didn’t call me.” He’s actually gasping for breath, and Leaf can’t remember seeing him this - this _dishevelled_ , even after a two hour training session. It dawns on him that Red lives on the other side of the city, and apparently ran all the way over to the university dorms.

A knot of something bitter and sad loosens in his chest. Jack peers to see who he’s talking to, then grabs a book off his bedside table and nudges Leaf out of the way.  
“Excellent, I need to return this to pipsqueak this evening before it gets too late but didn’t want to leave the walking wounded alone. Make sure Leaf eats something, alright, Red?” He’s gone before either of them can protest. Watching his friend stride away, barefoot, Leaf can’t help but feel that just maybe he’s being set up. Red looks at him, anxious.  
“Haven’t you eaten anything?”

Leaf rolls his eyes, embarrassed.  
“We got back like twenty minutes ago.” Red nods and glances at his phone, and Leaf stares. “Wait, Jack only texted you when we got - you _ran here_ _in twenty minutes?_ Sit down before you collapse.” Red shuffles inside obediently, looking a little embarrassed. Leaf pointedly extracts a Tupperware of soup from the bag Rupert had passed to Jack, full of healthy food and a few of Leaf’s favourite snacks. Leaf still isn’t quite certain how Rupert knows everyone’s favourite and least favourite foods, but he’s gotten used to being passed his favourite kind of cereal bar on the coach home whenever they go to a training seminar, along with a stern reminder to drink plenty of water and rehydrate. Red watches like a hawk until Leaf has eaten half of the microwaved soup, before relaxing a little. Leaf curls up and nods at the foot of his bed, hoping he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels.  
“Y’know, that desk chair is super uncomfortable.” Red smiles a little in agreement, and moves to sit on the bed, a precise, careful two feet between them. Leaf concentrates on eating his soup without spilling it on his duvet. More for something to do than because he’s hungry, he reaches into the bag to see what else the blue-belt packed for him.

For a brief, surprised moment he thinks that Rupert may actually have forgotten that Leaf absolutely cannot stand flapjack with raisins in it, before he remembers that it’s Red’s favourite for some twisted reason Leaf will never stop mocking him for. He holds the box out with a grin, and Red flops dramatically back on the bed with his arm over his face, laughing. Leaf thinks it might be the most relaxed he’s ever seen his friend.  
“Those - the - ugh, why am I _friends_ with these people?” Leaf laughs, a bubble of happiness that everyone seems to have just assumed that Red would…that Red would run across the city to check he was okay. And he had. Leaf tells himself firmly that he’d have done it for any of them, but it’s hard to believe it when Red is either blushing or somehow still flushed from his run.

“Right, I should go, and you should sleep. Don’t - don’t scare us like that again, alright? I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I got Jack’s text.” Leaf smiles wryly. He hadn’t exactly intended to wind up in hospital in the first place. Red grimaces a little, and shuffles his feet as though uncertain what to say next. “Anyway, I’ll drop by again sometime to see how you’re doing. And once you’re back at training, you’re going to learn how to fall.”  
He doesn’t seem to be thinking when he leans over and presses a kiss to Leaf’s forehead, because he freezes, eyes widening with panic.  
“Uh - I -” Leaf grins, heart skipping a beat. He feels weightless again, but this time the ground isn’t rushing towards him. This, he thinks, is what a fall feels like when you know you’re going to roll and it isn’t going to hurt, or maybe just when you suspect there’s no landing, no impact, or at least none worth worrying about now.  
“I already have.” He mutters, shy, and kisses Red before he loses his nerve.


End file.
